Fury
by Mrs.Dickens713
Summary: My imagined confrontation between Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Carson and Mr. Green.


**A/N: This is a one-shot. I've been brooding over this idea for days now; it wouldn't let me be. I really wanted/hoped for a confrontation between Mrs. Hughes, Mr. Carson and Mr. Green. Chelsie Dagger wrote the book on Charles Carson's controlled fury. Read Moving Forward if you haven't already. It's everything wonderful and Chelsie.**

Fury

"Get your hands off me!" Mrs. Hughes jerked her arm as hard as she could, but Mr. Green's grip was too strong. She could not break free.

He leaned in closely. "Not so fierce now, are we, Mrs. Hughes?"

She turned her face from him and stood ramrod straight, though she was sure he could see her pulse throbbing in her neck. She had approached him in righteous anger, unafraid, never suspecting that he would be so bold as to put his hands on her, to _threaten_ her. She had expected to see a trace of remorse, shame, even, when confronted by his actions, but he remained calm, arrogant even, in the face of her ambush. _You should have expected that_, Mrs. Hughes thought ruefully. No man who could do what he did to Anna could have a conscience. Now to free herself without drawing unwanted attention. She had a sinking feeling that he knew she would not cry out.

He leaned in closer still. She could feel his breath against her ear. She shivered involuntarily, and she saw him smile out of the corner of her eye. "You're a very handsome woman, Mrs. Hughes. I wonder. Has it been difficult, _Mrs_. Hughes, to carry the title of a married woman, yet receive none of the benefits?" She exhaled loudly and pressed her lips into a firm line. She would not be baited by him. He gripped her arm more tightly. "I think it must have been. Are you jealous, Mrs. Hughes? Jealous of Anna? She is younger than you, more desirable." She could feel her temper rising; to think this young, arrogant boy would attempt to intimidate her with such a pitiful argument. To hear him speak of Anna at all was disgusting, more so in that he continued to look upon her, not as a person, but as a thing, a thing he would possess no matter the cost. Her hand itched to slap him across the face, but she held herself steady. No good would come of striking him, of that she was sure. Best to remain calm and treat him as she would a rabid dog. "She is married as well, even if her husband is a cripple." _Gods damn this man straight to hell_. She could feel his annoyance growing as she refused to answer him. He squeezed her arm painfully, but she refused to cry out. It wasn't much, but she would do what she could to thwart him. "Cat got your tongue, Mrs. Hughes?" he drawled teasingly. He turned her toward him swiftly and bit her neck. Her eyes flew open in surprise; fear and disgust flooded her. She fought, scratching and kicking, but he was much stronger than she. Even now he had her by the arms, effectively pinning them to her sides, preventing her from pushing him away. He pushed her roughly against the wall. He was panting now; his façade of easy confidence slipped and she could see the brutal man who lay beneath. _Oh gods, this can't be happening_. She struggled against him, but he shoved her hard against the wall, causing her head to bounce back painfully against the stone.

"Not so fierce now," he said again, tauntingly, and kissed her hard on the mouth. She tried to turn away, but he put his hand firmly on her jaw and around her throat. He looked into her eyes and saw the fear in them. This pleased him; he never did like a woman getting the better of him. He relaxed his grip slightly and she was able to wrench herself free. She made for the door but he grabbed her arm before she could open it. She turned to slap him as hard as she could. He grabbed her hand in mid-air and pulled her to him, trying to kiss her again.

"Mrs. Hughes, Anna said…Oh my God!" Carson crossed the room in two swift strides and grabbed Green by the shoulders. "What in God's name d'you think you're doing?" he roared as he pushed the younger man into the wall.

Mrs. Hughes shut the door quickly, then put a hand on Carson's shoulder. "Mr. Carson," she said shakily, "please don't shout."

Green smiled at this. "That's right; you wouldn't want anyone hearing of this, now would you, Mrs. Hughes?"

Carson held him in an even firmer grip and looked him directly in the face. "You will not address her again, Mr. Green, if you value your life." Something in Carson's deadly calm manner frightened Green. He sized him up. Yes, he was older, but he was still very strong considering his age and very, very angry. It was all well and good to have a bit of fun with the repressed old housekeeper, but it wouldn't do to provoke the butler. He could speak to Gillingham and have him sacked for certain. He looked into Carson's eyes. Sacked with no reference.

Carson released Mr. Green and took two steps back. "It is my understanding," he said coldly, "that you are to remain here through Wednesday morning." Green made to answer, but a look from Carson silenced him. "You will keep to yourself for the remainder of your trip. Mrs. Patmore will send a tray to your room." At this, an indignant grunt escaped him, but Carson held up his hand. "You are here to attend Lord Gillingham and that is what you will do. That is _all_ you will do while you are here. Is that understood?" Green nodded grudgingly. "Be advised that I will know whether you fulfill your end of this very generous bargain. If you don't," he said slowly. "If you don't, I shall be forced to report you to Lord Grantham and to Lord Gillingham. I will see that you are released from your duties with no letter of recommendation. Furthermore, I will use my considerable influence to see to it that you are not hired in any of the great houses in all of England. I will see to it," and here he stepped in closer to Green and he was delighted to see that Green finally looked alarmed, "that you will be begging for a job sweeping the streets." Green looked nervously from Carson to Mrs. Hughes. "Do not even look at her, Mr. Green. You are not fit to. You will return to your room and wait there until you are summoned by Lord Gillingham. Is that understood?" Green nodded. Carson stepped aside to let him pass, maneuvering himself deftly between Green and Mrs. Hughes. He waited until Green shut the door, none too softly, behind them. He turned then, quickly. "Are you alright?"

She laughed shakily. "I'm alright, Mr. Carson."

He scanned her face anxiously. Her face was pale; she was wringing her hands and biting her lip. She met his eyes briefly, then turned her face to the wall.

"He didn't," he faltered. "He didn't _hurt_ you, did he?"

"No, Mr. Carson." She was silent for a moment. "He didn't hurt me."

"Are you sure?"

She laughed abruptly. "I'm sure, Mr. Carson." She paused again. "I'm only glad you came when you did."

Carson paced the floor in front of her. "Whatever was he thinking, grabbing you like that? I've a good mind to-"

"Don't, Mr. Carson."

He looked up at her in surprise. There was a note of fear, almost panic, in her voice. His eyes narrowed. "Will you not tell me what happened?" he asked softly.

"You saw the worst of it."

"But whatever possessed him to… to assault you like that? And why do I get the feeling you're hiding something?"

She looked at him steadily. "I cannot answer your questions, Mr. Carson," she replied gently. "Would that I could," she whispered, then squared her shoulders. "But I cannot." She looked at him sadly. "But I do thank you, Mr. Carson," she said quietly, wringing her hands absently. "I thank you very much."

"No need, Mrs. Hughes," he said gruffly. He realized suddenly that he was standing too close to her, they were standing too close to one another. Her hair smelled of lavender, perhaps a hint of lemon as well? She looked up at him, her gaze clear and honest. "I only want you to be safe. I only ever want you to be…safe," he finished, disappointed that he could not bring himself to say what he truly meant. But she continued to hold his gaze and he thought, perhaps, that she could read in his eyes what his voice refused to say. _I love you. I was afraid for you. I might have killed that man. I should have killed that man. Promise me he didn't hurt you. Promise me. Promise me. _He took a tentative step forward, raised his hand gently and pushed a strand of her hair back in place. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply. His warm, gentle touch was soothing, and she turned her face into his palm. He broke then, shattered, and the last of the wall he had built and jealously tended over the years crumbled into dust. He leaned down and gently, so gently, brushed his lips against her cheek, her mouth. "I love you," he whispered. "I love you. I have always loved you."

She grabbed hold of his lapels to steady herself. Her mind was spinning. How different it was to be touched with love, gentleness. His kisses were soft, so soft and sweet, shy like a young lad courting his first maid. She shivered with pleasure, and he pulled back immediately, alarmed that he had overstepped.

"Forgive me, Mrs. Hughes. I…I should not have… it was unthinkable of me…I didn't-"

She smiled up at him. "It's alright, Mr. Carson. I'm made of stern stuff. I won't break. And you might be interested to know-" She broke off here to take a deep breath. Others coming to her, confiding their foibles, their hopes and dreams, never bothered her, but talking of her own feelings, well it was difficult for her at best. But if the beautiful, stubborn man in front of her could do it, then so could she. She straightened her spine and looked him straight in the eye. "It may interest you to know, Mr. Carson, that I love you as well. And I have always." He pressed her to him as close as he dared; they were both laughing and crying. "A right pair we make, Mr. Carson," she said, her voice muffled against his coat.

"Yes, a right pair. And you must call me Charles, from now on."

She pulled back to look at him once more. "And you must call me Elsie."

"With pleasure, my love," and he leaned in to kiss her once more.


End file.
